


Gold in miser's hands

by chancellorxofxtrash (PhoebeMurdivine)



Category: Baccano!
Genre: Immortals loving mortals is the bane of my existence, M/M, baccanoweek, sadtimes, why did i do this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 16:10:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7899283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoebeMurdivine/pseuds/chancellorxofxtrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Time was like the rain, glittering as it fell, changing the world, but something that could also be taken for granted. Until you love a mortal. Then time became gold in a miser's hands, every bright year counted out carefully, infinitely precious, and each one slipping through your fingers." (Cassandra Clare & Sarah Rees Brennan: What Really Happened In Peru)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gold in miser's hands

**Author's Note:**

> Oh dear why did I do this. Oh wait, I know: because immortal/mortal pairings absolutely destroy my soul.
> 
> Baccanoweek Day 2: Life or Death

The first time Dallas had kissed Luck, he already had grey strands in his hair.

On one hand, it made sense. They didn’t have the best foundations for their relationship. In fact, they killed each other multiple times, that’s not exactly your typical “that’s how I met my lover” story, not even in the mafia buisness.

On the other hand, Luck caught himself looking at Dallas’ grey strands, the wrinkles around his eyes, and felt a pang in his chest.

Obviously Luck had no grey hair or wrinkles whatsoever. Never had. Never will have.

He couldn’t really say how did Dallas fall into their lives. It was thanks to Eve, obviously, she was the one who acted like a mediator originally between her brother and the Gandors. Originally Dallas only spent there as much time as he had to, doing some jobs for the family. Then he started to hang around more, and Luck found that he started to mind his company less and less.

It wasn’t quick, it took years, and then one day, while Luck was not paying attention to Dallas - he was reading, so it is easy to say that he definitely had better things to do - and Dallas just pulled his book down, and kissed him.

-

There were a lot of things Luck Gandor had expected from life, but having Dallas Genoard by his side was not one of them.

-

“Actually, I don’t really mind” Dallas shrugged one day, combing his hair, the grey strands more and more obvious. “Like, let’s say your friend would offer me that juice tomorrow” all these years, Dallas still had issues talking about Firo. “I don’t think I’d accept it ya know? What I have of immortality is nice an’ all, but also fuckin’ shit. No thanks, I think I’d rather see the end of it.”

And Luck nodded.

Really, what else could he have said? It wasn’t his choice to make.

-

Kate was the first one who died out of the lovers of the Gandor brothers.

It was sudden, nobody expected it - just an accident. They all spent weeks following leads, but in the end, it turned out that it  _ was _ an accident.

Sometimes terrible coincidences do happen, and sometimes Mafia Don’s wives get hit by cars completely accidentally.

It was a cloudy November day, and during the ceremony, it was already drizzling, but nobody moved in the small, dark crowd. Keith’s face unreadable to everyone, closed off from even his brothers.

He didn’t talk about it. Luck didn’t expect him to. That’s the way Keith had always been.

-

“If you want to leave, I understand.”

Luck said this to Dallas two weeks after Kate’s death, and Dallas looked at him like Luck had announced that he’s gonna throw him right back into the Hudson.

“...you want me to leave?”

“No, I…”

“Oh, I get it” Dallas clenched his jaw. “You don’t want to bury me. No worries if you want me to fuck off, just say so. I’m sure there are enough hot immortal guys around.”

“This isn’t about me, it’s about...”

“Who the fuck else would it be about? Me? How the fuck would it be about me? I’m gonna die, sure, I can’t get sick or killed, but I will die. And you just faced this fact, so now you’ll throw me out. Fucking typical.”

“I can’t give you what you’d deserve, Dallas!”

Luck finally snapped, and Dallas looked taken aback. Luck slowly let out his breath, running a hand through his hair - his hair, never greying, never balding, never losing colour.

“If this goes on, you’re gonna spend the rest of your life with me. And I can’t return the favour. I will live on, and you’d deserve someone who can grow old together with you. Someone who--”

He couldn’t finish, because Dallas literally shut him up with a kiss.

“I don’t care whatever the fuck do I deserve. I kept so long running after things I thought I deserved. I want to go after what I want. Who I want. And that’s you. Will you shut up and let me stay with you?”

So Luck shut up, and did so.

-

Firo and Luck were on their way back from Mexico in the fifites - it was nasty buisness, and both of them died a few times, but then again, in their case, only their clothes needed a funeral.

Well, and also the organization that they destroyed. They were extending their claws deep into the States, which one one thing (many organizations did so), but they found out about immortality somehow, and threatened the mortal ones the Martillo and Gandor families cared about.

So Luck and Firo were the ones who went to raise some hell.

“So. You and Ennis?”

Predictably, Firo went completely red.

“Don’t you start as well! We are just. Friends. Like family.”

“But you want to be more, don’t you?”

Firo was quiet for a few moments, and putting his hands to his horrible coat’s pockets. They did have to get some new clothes here to get home in, and the two old friends simultanously agreed that as soon as they are back in the States, they are gonna buy some new clothes, and destroy these, because honestly, both of them looked terrible in them.

“Y’know… if she will never love me back… even if she finds someone else, I don’t mind. As long as she’s happy.”

“And what if she finds someone else?”

“Well… if she can, maybe one day I can too. That can happen. I can’t really see the future, and our future… both mine and Ennis’ are very long. But I do think that I’ll always want her to be happy.”

“I guess you have a point. Not like you two are gonna run out of time anytime soon. There’s no time limit on this.”

Firo was quiet, not knowing what to say, and Luck figured he must have let some emotions slip into his voice, and just smiled a little, clapping his old friend in the shoulder.

“Don’t even worry. It’s not like I sit there thinking about it.”

“Yeah, I get you. But sometimes we do. I mean… just because I don’t have anyone like Dallas for you… and that Ennis is also immortal, I mean… there’s Felix too. And others who are mortal, and…”

“Yes.”

“Y’know, I asked Maiza about it. How can you do it. You know what he said?”

Luck didn’t know, so he looked at Firo, who looked back at him with a sad smile.

“He said that no, it never really gets easier. But what we can do, is to use as many of our time as we can. Because that’s what they deserve, and not less.”

-

By the time Kalia died, Dallas was more and more obviously greying - he was more grey now than brown, but his grin didn’t fade, at all, despite the wrinkles around his eyes and his mouth when he smiled. He aged well, and he damn well knew it.

“People always call you fox-eyed, but I’m the damned silver fox here where is my credit?” he’d ask, and Luck would just smile, and would give credit where credit is due.

Berga predictably didn’t take Kalia dying well either.

But that was to be expected, and Luck couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“I don’t want flowers.”

Dallas was the one who said this after Kalia’s funeral, frowning back to the flowers around her grave.

Luck couldn’t find the words, and Dallas just continued, with a frown on his face.

“Look, we all know one day I’ll be the one the one put into the ground. Just because we don’t talk about it, we both know it. And if that happens, I don’t want flowers. Especially not later. Use bottle caps or whatever. I don’t fucking care what the fuck you are bringing. No flowers.”

Still couldn’t find a word, and Dallas finally looked at him, his frown transforming to a grin.

“Hey, don’t mope around. We can all go back to ignore the issue nice as usual. I just wanted to make this clear.”

“Great. Any other special wishes? Should I not even give you a tombstone while we are at it, just put down a stick or whatever? Or maybe a can of beer?”

“Nah, a tombstone is fine. If you could bury me in a way that I’m flipping everyone off with both hands though, that’d be great. Oh and also, don’t put me nowhere near my folks. I mean, being next to Eve, once she’ll… be gone as well, is fine, but not to the others.”

Luck rolled his eyes to the first request, but then nodded, and just linked their arms.

“Hey now. We now look like I’m your sugar daddy. You are so young and pretty, and me being the silver fox.”

“Shut up, Genoard.”

“Make me, Gandor.”

-

Dallas politely declined the invitation to Firo and Ennis’ wedding (“You young people go and have fun, my hip would dislocate from dancing” he snickered, not like he had any issues with his hips. He had reasons to stay away, though - he never really got over his thing against Firo and Ennis, not fully).

Felix and Chane were both old too, and that was just another constant reminder for Luck about time passing.

The night was eventful, obviously, and involved wedding crashers, and Christopher Shouldered changing outfits seven times during the night. Nobody asked why.

After dancing a little with Ennis, and after a lot of pleasantaries, Luck found himself sitting on the side, drinking.

Obviously, Felix couldn’t leave him alone.

“Heya, bro. Honestly, even Firo got married whataya waitin’ for?”

Luck gave a side-eye to his brother.

“For the world to change. I can’t exactly marry Dallas officially, you know.”

“Ah, right. Still, we coulda made a little party. Even if not official.”

He just shook his head as a response.

“Weddings are either of our styles, Felix. Besides, your wedding was flashy enough.”

Felix grinned, before straightening his back, cracking his joints. In his seventies, still strong as ever.

But his red hair was also grey, and despite how easy his steps still were, Luck couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that took him over.

He really, really hated grey hair now.

-

One day, Dallas collapsed in the kitchen.

-

It was time, they knew, but Dallas didn’t stop bitching in his bed, until he was running out of breath. Luck didn’t move from his bedside, and was mostly quiet.

Not a lot of people came to visit, Dallas wasn’t close to most of them, after all

Eve did come though, of course.

Still straightened back, leaning on a cane, the small old lady walked in, but Luck could still remember the grace of the young girl, all back then in 1932. She never lost her strength.

Luck did stand up and let them be alone for a while.

-

“Hey, Luck. Would you read for me?”

They were left alone. Luck had a sinking suspicion nobody went too far, but they let them have their privacy.

“What do you want me to read?”

“Dunno. Not depressing, though, not one of those horrid poems you love so much. I’ll see the Grim Reaper soon enough, thank you. Read me a mystery, or something.”

“You know, Poe did write murder mysteries.”

“Son of a bitch. You know what, I’ll bite. Read that to me, then.”

So Luck did. Sitting on the bedside of Dallas, holding his hand with one hand, holding the book with another.

He tried to ignore the way the hand went limp in his, tried to ignore the way his own throat tightened when this happened.

Couldn’t ignore the tears forever.

-

Luck didn’t cry on the funeral.

And he did make sure nobody brought any flowers.

-

His brothers didn’t really leave him alone afterwards.

They didn’t talk about them. They almost never did. Kate, Kalia, Dallas, now all three of them were gone, and it was once again just Keith, Berga and Luck. Both Keith and Berga had children, grandchildren, and Luck liked being an uncle. Not to mention Felix’s children, who might have been an absolute menace, but Luck obviously adored them a lot.

Not to mention, they were good for distracting his mind.

Until he thought about the fact, that they were mortals as well.

-

Felix and Chane died together.

They were found in the same bed, curled around each other, with a smile on both of their faces. They just fell asleep together, and never woke up again.

Or perhaps they did, in Felix’s new world, somewhere else.

As hard as it was to imagine a world without Felix - life did move on.

-

He hated it when he had Poe poems stuck in his head while going to the cemetery. He knew Dallas would make fun of it, and call him overdramatic, or whatever. Didn’t matter.

“Hi there. Now I brought a cap of some orange juice. I thought even you’d get fed up by getting beer caps all the time.”

He just placed the cap down to the grave. There were none there - the caretakers probably hated Luck, to be honest, they regularly removed all the caps. Probably thought he was just a young hooligan, littering.

Even though he still didn’t dress like a delinquent, even though he got out of the habit of wearing suits all the time a long time ago.

He usually talked about things that were neutral. Music that he thought Dallas would have liked. Something stupid that Firo did this time. Something ridiculous that would have made Dallas laugh. Something about Eve’s descendants.

Not this time, though.

“You know, I met someone.”

Quiet. It was hard to find the words.

“Firo made me go to Japan one time him and Ennis went. I think he’s still awkward travelling with her alone, but anyway. That’s where I met him.”

A deep sigh escaped from his lips before continuing.

“He’s also in organized crime, so that wasn’t a problem. He is older than my physical age, but... we all know it does not matter. We did hit it off quite well. We had this thing for like… a few months. Until I packed up and came back to the States.”

Luck put his hands into his pockets, frowning at the grave.

“I can almost hear you chewing me out, you know. But no, it was not because of you. It’s just… he’s mortal.”

Once again, quiet, and Luck just looked down the the ground, and when he continued, he was quiet again.

“He’s mortal. And I… sure, it is possible it would not work out long-time. But what if it would? I’m not sure I could do it again.”

_ Not sure I could bury someone I love again. _

“Firo made me promise I’d think it over. I think that’s what you’d tell me as well if you could contact me, wouldn’t you?” Luck sighed again. “Alright. I will.”

He turned away, and just looked at the grave one last time.

_ I still miss you. _

“See you later.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I immersely dislike Cassandra Clare, but I do find some positives in "her" works. Magnus Bane being one of them. Hence the quote in the beginning.
> 
> Also, parts of this I had already written a few months ago for Use Your Language Day. I just reworked parts of this to the fic itself.


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